


Aflame with Need

by ExtraPenguin



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Cunt Spanking, Dom/sub, F/F, Nipple Play, breast slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 05:26:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11350797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraPenguin/pseuds/ExtraPenguin
Summary: Nedaö Vechin needs a new patron. Arbelan Drazharan listens to her. *porn soundrack noises*





	Aflame with Need

Nedaö Vechin arrived once more to the Untheileneise Court. Officially, the Zhaö Opera was here to perform in the festivities celebrating the birth of the new Crown Prince, Chena, now two months old. Unofficially, she was here to greet her new patron.

The door-servant at the entry to Arbelan Drazharan’s rooms was unobtrusive and announced her efficiently. Nedaö was let into the vestibule – subtly opulent in its silk wall paneling, the Drazhadeise blue reminding all that this was the residence of an Empress. She sat down on an elegant chair of mahogany wood, with upholstery in the cobalt blue of the Drazhada.

She did not have to wait for long before Arbelan Drazharan swept into the vestibule, tall and regal. Nedaö rose to greet her.

“So you are the opera singer we have heard so much about.” She swept her gaze critically from Nedaö’s satin-heeled feet to her tortoiseshell-combed hair. “Indeed, you do seem to be of decent comportment, but we have yet to hear you sing. If you would follow us to the drawing room?”

“Certainly, Your Ladyship.” Nedaö followed her through the parlor, the décor exuding the confident opulence of the dens of the highborn, to the drawing room, decorated slightly more plainly. The blue silk was muted towards gray, the mahogany woodwork not polished to high sheen, the furniture unadorned with gilt-work.

Arbelan Drazharan sat down on a simple chaise with elegance and poise. She gestured for Nedaö to start.

Reveiro Clavohin’s aria of appeal to Ulis had always been one of Nedaö’s favorites to sing, and quite a vocal tour de force to boot. The Empress’ expression morphed from assessing to thoughtful. As Nedaö held the final high note, she knew she had succeeded. She carefully kept her ears from rising.

“Indeed,” Arbelan Drazharan said, as the final echoes of song faded from the room. “You are quite skilled in the vocal arts.” She rose.

“We thank you,” Nedaö said, fluttering her lashes and averting her gaze in proper demure fashion.

“Your manners, however,” Arbelan Drazharan said, “could do with some work.” She advanced on Nedaö and ran a finger up her throat to her jaw, then pressed until Nedaö looked up at her vivid blue eyes. “As could your dress,” she continued. “The cut is outdated, and the material provincial. That shade of rose is more commonly associated with the streetwalkers, nowadays.” She leaned down and whispered darkly in Nedaö’s ear. “Shouldst remove it.”

Her presence was formidable and left Nedaö with no desire to refuse. She unfastened the diagonal row of buttons that held together her dress’ bodice, then the latch that kept the tulip hem’s waistline attached. A shiver from her shoulders, and the dress pooled at her ankles, leaving her only in her slip and smallclothes, her skin on goosebumps at her sudden undressing. She stepped out of her dress and lay it on one of the divans to give her a moment to prepare for–

Arbelan Drazharan’s gaze was intense and all-encompassing, and when Nedaö again faced her, she ran her hand lightly up Nedaö’s torso, sending shivers up Nedaö’s spine. When she got to a breast, she groped, unleashing a moan in Nedaö. She appeared pleased.

“Remove the rest of thy clothes,” she said. “We wish to see thee naked.”

Nedaö lifted her slip over her head, catching at a tortoiseshell comb. The cord of her drawers likewise was more complicated than in should have been. Her hands shook.

Arbelan loomed over her, running her hands over Nedaö’s breasts in an assessing manner. Her hands cupped them gently, then squeezed. “Larger than we would have expected.” She lifted her right hand and delivered a sharp slap onto Nedaö’s left breast, causing Nedaö to cry out.

Nedaö felt as if her nether lips were swollen with arousal, enough to make the pressure of her thighs on them uncomfortable. She adjusted her stance. Her heart hammered, sending too-hot blood through her already-warm body. She tried her best to keep her ears presentable, but they were twitching with interest.

“And what didst thou think?” Arbelan demanded, tweaking a nipple.

Nedaö’s skin tingled insistingly and her nipple was aflame with need. “More. Please, I beg you.”

“Thou certainly deservest it,” Arbelan said. She delivered one, two, three more slaps to Nedaö’s breast, each harder than the previous one, each making Nedaö cry out and moan, and the last one left her crying in sooth, desperate for a release that seemed just out of reach.

“Art so pretty when thou criest,” Arbelan whispered, voice dark. She ran her lacquered nails up Nedaö’s breast and then throat, keeping Nedaö’s skin aflame and relief just out of reach. Nedaö leaned into her touch, and when Arbelan wrapped her fingers around Nedaö’s throat and subtly squeezed, Nedaö could do nothing but lean into the grip; she was _so_ close, and each moment was but exquisite torture–

–and then Arbelan’s other hand fell hard upon the join of Nedaö’s thighs, and she finally went over the edge, still in her heels. Her whole body shivered, every nerve in her body twinged, and she would have fallen over had Arbelan not caught her.

She groaned and panted. Her relaxed ears were pulled down by gravity.

After a moment, she reached out towards her discarded clothes.

Arbelan slapped her hand away. “What makest thee think we were done with thee? Paintest a most pretty picture when coming apart in our hands.” She pushed Nedaö towards the other divan.

Nedaö landed inelegantly, one shoe slipping off, and had no time to reposition herself before Arbelan was on her, pressing a palm into her sensitized skin. Nedaö did not know whether to squirm away from the pain or towards the pleasure, so she merely squirmed. She threw her head back. Her ears fell onto the divan’s silk fabric. Arbelan began to slide her fingers back and forth through her folds, at first merely touching near Nedaö’s entrance. Nedaö could feel the tension start building anew; when Arbelan’s fingers first wetly stroked Nedaö’s clit, she couldn’t help but twitch and keen at the warmth pooling in her belly and beneath.

Arbelan paused for a moment whilst she lifted herself onto the divan, her knees between Nedaö’s and forcing Nedaö’s legs wide open. “Lift thy hands up above thy head and keep them there,” she whispered into Nedaö’s ear.

“Yes, our Lady,” Nedaö whispered back. She clasped her hands together above her head and felt a shiver of thrill run down her back. Her blood once more felt like it was turning to steam within her.

Arbelan slowly brought her head to Nedaö’s breast, then abruptly engulfed it in her mouth and dragged her teeth along the skin. Nedaö arched her back, chasing the sensation, but Arbelan lifted her mouth despite her pleading. Nedaö moaned when she felt Arbelan’s wet mouth descend on her breast once more. Arbelan licked and sucked at one breast and then the other, her hand still playing with Nedaö’s clit and folds, and it was all Nedaö could do to keep her hands where they were supposed to be and not bring them down to press Arbelan’s face further down.

Nedaö trembled as the tension built inside her. Each slick movement of Arbelan’s hand increased the tempo of her breaths. Arbelan pinched her clit between thumb and forefinger. She cried out and twitched her ears. Her legs started twitching when Arbelan began massaging her clit, finally unseating her remaining heel. Again, her racing heart brought her closer and closer to some unreachable cliff off of which she wanted to plummet. Arbelan bit at the skin of the underside of her breast, making her way up to Nedaö’s nipple and leaving behind a trail of skin aflame with the memory of pleasure. When she reached the nipple, she sucked, and sucked, and used some tooth, and pulled it out as far as it could go, eliciting a most fantastic pleasure-pain, before letting Nedaö’s breast snap back with a satisfying thwop. Arbelan repeated the treatment for Nedaö’s other breast, then continued, changing the amount of suction and tooth with each iteration, occasionally twisting. Nedaö’s arms and shoulders strained with effort to keep her hands in place whilst she pushed her heaving bosom up towards the delightful abuse.

Arbelan lifted her stroking hand. At the loss of contact, Nedaö let out a whimper that was interrupted by Arbelan’s hand coming down on her groin with a smack, sending sharp waves of pleasure through her core. Nedaö scrambled for purchase on the divan and canted up her hips, lifting them up towards Arbelan’s hand.

Arbelan lifted her head. “Keep thy hips down so we may give thy cunt the smacking it so deserves,” she growled.

“Yes, our Lady,” Nedaö said, meek, and obediently brought her hips back down.

Arbelan’s next hit was harder, more intense, and fell like lightning on Nedaö’s nerves, especially as Arbelan returned to her torture of Nedaö’s sore breasts. The effort of keeping still in the assault on the senses had her crying, her nipples and clit screaming in a pleasurable agony, and then she was at the edge and plummeting off it and her control slipped and she was trembling with her whole body and she screamed–

Nedaö stayed still and let the aftershocks tear through her. For her part, Arbelan Drazharan seemed content to watch, a most satisfied and smug expression crossing her face.

Not wanting to presume anything, Nedaö stayed supine on the divan. Another experience like that, and she would faint, but perhaps Arbelan desired to have her in such a condition.

Instead, Arbelan rose, nary a stain on her dress. “It would appear to be time for you to leave so as to give you time to compose yourself for dinner.”

Nedaö rose gingerly, her muscles weak and slightly shaky. She fished her heels from beneath the divan. Her secretions soaked right through her drawers. Her shift rubbed not completely unpleasantly at her sore nipples. The buttons and latches of her dress were hard for her shaking hands.

Arbelan observed with an assessing eye. When Nedaö was done, she said, “Rest assured of our patronage. We will support you in your art, including a stipend so you may clad yourself in clothes we find acceptable.” She rang for a servant to show Nedaö out. “Next time, we shall acquire from the Archduchess Vedero a buzzing contraption to use on you.”

The same servant who had let Nedaö in arrived before she could answer. “We thank you for your support.” She curtsied.

Nedaö walked to where she was staying with her hair slightly mussy, her kohl smudged, and a spring in her stride. The sticky dampness in her drawers and the rubbing of her slip were temporary mementos of her newfound patronage.

She couldn’t wait to reach her bed.

**Author's Note:**

> With huge thanks to my fellow degenerates in the chat room for egging me on:
> 
> https://www.slashnet.org/webclient/thegoblinemperor


End file.
